The key to the education system in our country: one man’s view
by Pamela Eldridge

At the October luncheon for Alaska Press Women, Jeff Jones, publisher of Alaska Publications, brought strong opinions about public education in the United States.

As Jones sees it, the current catch phrase and federal mandate of No Child Left Behind means students are taught to pass tests, not necessarily encouraged to learn. They must pass these tests to avoid falling behind federally mandated testing levels. They must stay above these levels for the schools to keep federal funding. Spending per student has never been higher; conversely, literacy rates continue to fall. Jones feels that Americans have “abdicated the responsibility” of educating children to the government.

“Unless we’re willing to pull our heads out of the sand and face the reality of the current climate in this country as it relates to education, I think that we’re going to be in a lot of trouble,” Jones said.

Jones related a story of an elder at the Anchorage Pioneer Home who had an eighth grade education. “He gave me a copy of a test that he took in the eighth grade in Washington State. Seniors [in high school] couldn’t pass that test today. It is incredibly more complex and difficult and given to eighth graders. Not only are our kids failing, but we’re not preparing them for the workforce.”

Passing tests does not equate to employability. Jones cited a statistic that, in the United States, 20 percent of all recent graduates from high school are illiterate and innumerate. A 2004 study revealed that Minnesota businesses spent $40 million on remedial training to ready people for employment. Although reports indicate test scores are up, Jones said, “look at the questions that are asked on the assessment tests. They are watered down dramatically.”

As a world super power, Jones surmises that the United States should have public education figured out, but the facts reveal problems. “Our mantra is ‘No Child Left Behind.’ We’re trying to make sure Johnny is literate,” Jones said. “We’re not working on a world class education system. We’re bringing up the rear, but we’re spending an unprecedented amount of money. More money is not the answer.”

Jones cited several studies comparing literacy rates to federal spending, drawing comparisons that high spending levels do not equate to high quality education. Jones feels we push the responsibility for our children’s education onto the government. Yet it is our responsibility as parents and concerned family members to make sure our children receive a proper education.

“We need to love our kids enough to make certain they are truly being educated. Our involvement in their lives is key to all of their successes and all of their failures,” Jones said. “Without that, the tireless efforts of the best educators result in nominal performance as our children are not fully engaged because we are not available to ensure their success. The compelling nature of our love must be evidenced in the home. If not, the classroom will reflect the emptiness of our efforts as parents.”

Advances in television technology: where do we draw the line? News Director John Tracy takes aim at uses and abuses
by Tina M. Adair

When Anchorage’s Channel 2 News Director John Tracy took the podium at the April Alaska Press Women luncheon, the long-time anchor’s number one topic was, surprisingly, not the news.

Tracy began by waxing eloquent about APW’s 2005 Communicator of Achievement, Rhonda McBride, who will represent Alaska in the national COA contest at the September NFPW convention in Washington state. He also cited her as the probable reason for his presence at the meeting: “Now I know why I was invited; Rhonda needs to ask for time off to go to Seattle.”

He was initially torn, he said, by the multitude of possible discussion topics suggested for his speech. Press Women Vice President Barbara Brown had given him several ideas that might appeal to the group. As it turned out, however, his major concern was not choosing a subject, but going “live.”

“I can’t talk for half an hour,” he quipped, “without a teleprompter or commercial breaks.”

His chosen topic, “The Future of Television Technology: Sizzle Over Substance,” gave him no pause whatsoever; it was a subject about which he holds strong, insightful opinions, and his basic premise was simple. “The role of technology depends on what you do with it,” he proposed. “It’s only good if it enhances your storytelling.”

And Tracy knows a lot about storytelling. As recipient of more than 100 awards for reporting (including three Edward R. Murrow Awards and five regional Emmys), he has more than proven himself during his 20 years at Anchorage’s KTUU-TV as co-anchor, anchor, executive producer, and news director. Yet his interest in news broadcasting began much earlier.

In recalling his early memories of television news, Tracy reminisced about the late 1950s and the ’60s, when TV consisted of only three major networks, ABC, CBS, and NBC. The news was reported by the likes of renowned veterans Walter Cronkite, Chet Huntley, and David Brinkley, and broadcasts were only 15 minutes long.

At that time, he explained, news was shot on film, which was one of the first technical innovations to debut on television. The film was processed right at the station, edited through cutting and splicing, and then broadcast to its eager audience.

“We still use catchphrases like “film at 11” and  “cutting” a story,” noted Tracy, “even though today there’s no more film and no more actual cutting.”

In the days of film, timeliness was an issue in remote areas. News film had to be flown up to Anchorage from Seattle because studios here didn’t have the facilities to process it. People watched at midnight.

One of the next big technological steps forward was the implementation of color. At the time, there were many in the industry who speculated that people wouldn’t spend the money to trade their black and white sets for more expensive color models. “Turns out they were wrong,” Tracy said.

In the 1970s, videotape replaced film. One of the primary effects of the change, Tracy says, was the lamentable loss of many good photographers. Those adept at shooting film often had difficulty adjusting to the pace of tape, and so dropped out of the business. They were replaced by novices or less experienced photographers, which resulted in a noticeable decline in quality.

“As wonderful as technology can be,” he mused, “each innovation brings some loss or sacrifice.”

The advent of tape ushered in another development: that of the “do-it-all” newsperson. Because video cameras were so much more portable and easier to use than film cameras, journalists were expected to be reporters and photographers. “But it’s rare,” said Tracy, “to find a reporter who’s good at both.”

Cameras began to get smaller and easier to use. Coupled with the introduction of microwave and satellite technology, live broadcasting became more prevalent. It was a double-sided coin, feels Tracy. It enabled reporters to give the public a totally accurate depiction of a breaking story, enhancing their understanding of the reality of news. Unfortunately, it also gave rise to such bad ideas as what Tracy calls “the black hole live shot,” which placed reporters in locales where an actual broadcast turned out to be impossible.

For example, sending a crew to do a live shot for the 5:30 p.m. news celebrating the world’s largest gathering of bald eagles in Haines, Alaska sounded like a terrific idea. Much to their chagrin, the crew didn’t realize until they were on location that at 5:30 . . . in Haines . . . in November, when the eagles converge . . . it’s pitch dark.

All things considered, said Tracy, the ease of live broadcasting has been a positive thing. It’s brought world news much closer to our living rooms, allowing us to feel more in touch with events happening in highly remote locations around the globe–something that was unheard of only ten years ago. “One recent KTUU newscast,” recalled Tracy, “featured live network feeds from Nome, Washington, D.C., Dutch Harbor, Italy, and Viet Nam. I didn’t think much about it at the time, but you have to admit, that’s pretty impressive.”

Things continue to change. News is now shot on digital tape and cut on computers, enabling producers to monitor the progress of a story from start to finish. Internet news has also flourished, Tracy commented, despite the fact that few considered it a viable news medium when it first came into being. The KTUU-TV web site generated more than 800,000 page views in March of this year, and is presently one of the top 15 most-viewed “Local News” links on the MSNBC web site.

“We may be a small market,” he added, “but on the Internet we can be just as big as anyone else.”

The question remains, however: will people stop watching TV newscasts if they can get up-to-the-minute news on the web? Tracy says no, especially with the coming of high-definition television, or HDTV, the proliferation of which has been bolstered by Congress’ mandate that all television signals be broadcast digitally by December 31, 2006. The change will essentially require consumers to buy new digital TVs, broadcasters to create new digital content, and delivery systems like cable and satellite to get the programs delivered. Channel 2 and Channel 7 (KAKM, Anchorage’s PBS affiliate) will begin phasing in HDTV broadcasting by June of this year.

“It’s costing us a lot of money to make this change,” remarked Tracy, “but this is the future of television.”

Constant technological innovation seems to be the nature of our world today, but Tracy warns that just because it’s available doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a good thing. “We should continually ask ourselves any given innovation is really necessary. Are we actually using technology for our advancement, or are we just doing it because it’s cool?”

Even such beneficial developments as live broadcasting and the Internet are subject to occasional misuse, and Tracy was vocal about some of his pet peeves. He revealed that at the Radio Television News Directors’ Association, he’s considered “the guy who throws rocks at technology.”

“First on my list,” he declared, “is the television car chase.” The ease of live broadcasting has given rise, particularly in Los Angeles, to the broadcast of ongoing car chases via helicopter, some of which have even been televised nationally. “This is just a waste of time. I’ve called and complained numerous times, and now they seem to have stopped.”

Another error in judgment enabled by technology, he said, is the overuse of graphics. “Some national news stations seem to have decided that the more you put on the screen at one time, the better. I’ve seen stock quotes, breaking news, interviews, live commentary, and a news ticker all on the same screen. It’s just too much to read.”

Tracy continued to muse about the unfortunate side effects of technology. “For instance, now that we can digitally cut and paste wire copy into our own stories, should we? Or do we then lose the personal perspective we gain from interpreting and rewriting?”

Tracy also mentioned the non-viability of twenty-four-hour news stations. News is, by its nature, something special, so to be inundated with it takes away much of the excitement. “Often they struggle to fill the time, and viewers end up with garbage instead of real news.”

HDTV was not exempt from his list, either. “Maria [Downey, his co-anchor] and I wonder about that high-definition camera. Is it really such a good thing for reporters our age?”

“And now,” he went on, “we’re about to get on-demand news updates via cell phone. We need to ask ourselves, ‘Is this really necessary? Are we going too far?'”

But Tracy is optimistic about the future of the news business, especially here in Alaska. One of his dreams is to develop a news bureau in the Mat-Su Valley later this year. “Now that’s a great use of new technology,” he declared. “It won’t be live, but it’s a beginning. Since Mat-Su is one of the fastest growing areas in the country, we need to get moving now.”

Summing up his feelings about Alaska news, Tracy described a recent KTUU series generated by reporter Jason Moore and photographer Ian Planchon, who accompanied local firefighters to Thailand in late December to aid in the tsunami relief efforts. “They shot stories on a home video camera, in as subtle a way as possible,” he said, “so as not to draw attention to themselves. They wanted to show things from the actual viewpoint of the people affected by the tragedy.”

The stories were then sent using file transfer protocol (ftp) over the Internet, taking about 2 hours to transmit to Anchorage. “The result was amazing,” Tracy went on. “They were with the people of Thailand, in the villages, among the wreckage and the down-and dirty relief efforts, and got better coverage than the nationals did.”

Tracy smiled. “That’s the best example of what technology can do for the news. It should help you get the real story, up close, with no bells and whistles, no fireworks. Just the real story, about real people.”

John Tracy

Exploring the world with Nan Elliott
by Sherrie Simmonds
Nan Elliott, Alaska Press Women’s March speaker, kept the APW audience engaged and entertained with stories of her experiences. The author, cruise ship lecturer, assistant professor, journalist, and filmmaker, having worked on assignments around the world, for an Alaskan governor, the White House, and the federal government, says she has “no Marshall Plan for life. I’ve just taken opportunities, and I’m curious.”

Years ago a friend told Nan, “I use my writing to explore myself; you use yours to explore the world.” But that really wasn’t her plan. A history major, she turned in the final 60-page, comprehensive college paper and rode off on her bicycle, vowing never to write again.

Nan came to Alaska to teach the Inupiat Eskimos to swim. Deciding to stay in Alaska, the only job she could land was on the sports desk of the “Anchorage Times.” Everyone else told her to come back when she had more experience. (She wondered how she was going to get experience when no one would hire her.) She recalls Mike Doogan as the editor, walking around whacking on typewriters to get the stories by deadline. “It didn’t matter what they looked like; they just needed to be on time!”

Her recollection of writing her first sports article was not a fond memory. The reporter rushed in with the details of the game (several days after the fact, since there was no fax, e-mail, etc.). She wrote what she thought was a terrific article; but when she handed it to the editor, he hollered, “You’ve never written for a paper before, have you?!” “Well, yes, but just feature articles.” (She had put the score and winner at the end of the story.) That convinced her to hurry to the library to read up on how to write for a newspaper.

While at the Times, one of the sports writers took her on several fishing trips. She was impressed with his ability to roll a cigarette with one hand and continually asked how he’d acquired the skill. He finally confessed he’d spent time in jail. She pictured a few days for a misdemeanor and later learned he’d actually served six years in San Quentin for armed robbery. “This is one of those things I didn’t tell my mom,” she said.

After a year and a half, Nan “retired” from the paper to explore Alaska.

Upon returning to Anchorage, there was no job waiting. She went to work for the National Park Service, where she was assigned to work for one of the 12 “key men.” This was in 1974-75, and says she never thought to question why there weren’t any “key women.”

When that job finished, she went to work for Governor Jay Hammond in the Alaska Public Forum, a grassroots forum for people to talk about issues such as land, oil and gas, and subsistence. They would analyze issues through interpreters and translators. It was during this time she learned how TV could help tell the story.

After three or four years, the White House decided to hold a huge conference on public participation, so they came to Alaska for training. When the staff went back to D.C., she was asked to go along to help out with the conference, which led to being hired as part of a team to study the living conditions in the coal mines of Appalachia. The two towns she was assigned to in West Virginia and Kentucky were infamous, making Esquire’s list of 10 Worst Cities that year. She learned that the Hatfields and McCoys were real people. “It’s a totally different culture; there are a lot of fundamental religious and snake handlers who worked in the coal mines.” Nan said she had everything on tape. “Tape was great, because they have wonderful expressions, and I could get it just right. They’d take you clogging and to see their moonshine still.” From those interviews and photos, she wrote The American Coal Miner.

“Retired” again, Nan traveled to India, where she received a news assignment to cover Ray Genet’s death on Mt. Everest. She is still working on an “ancient book project” with notes from that assignment.

Returning again to Alaska, she went to work for the University, disseminating information about science and the arctic to the rest of the world through radio and television. They put equipment into villages, giving many of them access to TV for the first time. It had quite an influence. A resident of Norvik, mimicking a robbery he had just seen on Dallas, donned a ski mask, went next door, held up his neighbor, went home, and sat back down to watch TV. He had no idea he had just committed a felony.

She learned that writing scripts is “like bad writing.” She thinks of it as poetry or “economy of words.” When she writes a script, she uses pencil and paper (rather than a computer) to remind herself to keep it short. She became fascinated with working in film – the words, the sounds, the sound effects, and the visuals.

She told the rapt APW audience how she spent considerable time perfecting the dialogue for her first script and felt really quite good about it. Then just before sending it off, she scribbled in the left-hand side [set directions]. When the editor received it, he told her the script stunk, but the left-hand writing was interesting.

When the money for that project dried up, she wrote books (I’d Swap My Old Skidoo For You: A Portrait of Characters on the Last Frontier and Alaska guidebooks). When she initially spoke to the Seattle-based editor about doing “Alaska’s Best Places,” Nan told her, “We’re not going to tell you our BEST places; but we’ll tell you our second best.” Nan never did meet the editor but remembered a humorous phone conversation with her. The editor told Nan she was concerned about a proposed writer, who would be reviewing restaurants in rural Alaska. The editor had taken her to lunch and was appalled that the woman didn’t know one of the words on the menu. Nan asked about the word, and it turned out to be chevre. Nan said, “I don’t think you need to worry. The odds of her running into a foreign word in a restaurant she would be reviewing in Alaska are quite remote. . .maybe Deluxe and that would be in reference to a burger.”

Nan and her co-writers decided the book needed a little humor, so they came up with a section called the Best Places to Die. “Initially the editor was not impressed; but it got left in.”

Nan, having written a history guide for National Geographic and currently working on an article for National Geographic Magazine, says she’s finding the process for each quite different. With the book, she says, “They just want you to go out and do it. With the magazine, everyone wants to talk to you all the way up the line. The process for an article takes SO much longer.” She obtained the latest assignment because of the photographer’s recommendation; but she said that’s a death curse with some editors who don’t want to hire a “team.”

When asked how it was to co-author a book, Nan said they worked it out quite well. Each writer had expertise in different areas of the state, so they just divided the state in half. When it came time for the acknowledgments, her name was, alphabetically, the first of three (along with her co-writer and the photographer). The bibliography now lists: author, Nan Elliott, et al., so she receives emails from her co-writer signed et al.

In answer to how she began lecturing on cruise ships, Nan explained that 15 or 16 years ago her brother-in-law, a naturalist, was asked to speak on a small ship, the Exploration. He couldn’t make it and recommended her, saying she could keep talking all the way back to Anchorage. On her way to board the ship, she boned up by reading five books on Alaska. She continues to “talk”—but only on her choice of select summer cruises.

Nan Elliott’s enthusiasm and humor were contagious. She is the epitome of one who makes the most of every opportunity and lives life to the fullest.

Nan Elliott

Dillehay offers unique perspective on journalism and the free press
by Carol Sturgulewski

To a room full of journalism professionals, the numbers were both startling and enlightening:

• U.S. television coverage of international news has fallen from 45 percent in the 1970s, to 12 percent today.
• Of some 1,400 daily newspapers in the U.S., only 20 have overseas bureaus.
• Aside from coverage of the war in Iraq, the average daily newspaper devotes just two percent of its news space to foreign affairs.

“Something is rotten in journalism today, but instead of complaining about it, we need to do something about it,” said Whayne Dillehay, Atwood Professor of Journalism at the University of Alaska Anchorage.

At the February APW meeting, Dillehay spoke on “The Sorry State of Global Journalism: Some Solutions.” He reflected on the causes and effects of decreased international news coverage by U.S. media. Dillehay, who came to Anchorage in 2003, spent 15 years as senior vice president and executive director of the International Center for Journalists in Washington, D.C.

The non-profit center provides training for journalists and media organizations around the world, especially those in emerging democracies. It also offers fellowships and professional internships abroad for U.S. journalists.

His position gave Dillehay a unique perspective into both U.S. coverage of foreign news, and the development of a free press in other parts of the world.

Some 62 percent of the world’s nations, and 83 percent of the population, have press systems that are not free. Barriers range from restricted information to government control to various levels of censorship. Some of the nations not considered free are surprising to most Americans, Dillehay said; for example, Italy’s press is considered only partly free because the prime minister owns many television stations. Most of the rest of Western Europe is a “bright spot” on the globe of free press, Dillehay said, with 23 of 25 countries ranked as free–and 15 ahead of the U.S.

“The dimmest regions are the Middle East and North Africa,” he said. With some exceptions in Israel and Kuwait, “the rest are at the bottom of the list.” But in Europe, laws protect against concentration of ownership in the media, and protect freedom of speech. “Scandinavian countries are very involved in helping train journalists around the world,” he said, dwarfing U.S. contributions
to the effort.

The U.S. has an ever-broadening interest in other parts of the globe, Dillehay said. The Internet, booming imports, corporate outsourcing, college study abroad, military troops stationed overseas and other factors bind us ever closer to other countries. Yet at the same time, Dillehay said, virtually every television network except CNN has cut back on overseas coverage.

“Latin American coverage is almost non-existent,” he said. “Fox and MSNBC were created with almost no attention to foreign news.”

The biggest problem, of course, is money. By the time news organizations cover the costs of salaries, travel, insurance, equipment and other needs, it can cost $150,000-$200,000 a year to field a foreign correspondent overseas, Dillehay said. At the same time, he noted, the news business is one of the most profitable in the world today, and should be capable of doing more to educate audiences.

Dillehay suggests news organizations take smaller bites of the global apple. Instead of attempting to field an overseas news bureau, he suggests media work at localizing international news–finding ways to make stories from far away relevant in U.S. communities. He praised fellowships which allow print journalists and photographers to go anywhere in the world for three weeks, and bring back stories relevant to their hometown audiences.

He cited a reporter-photographer team from Toledo, Ohio that went to Spain for a few weeks, and brought back stories on everything from related families, to similarities in business and industry.

There are bright spots; technological advances are making it possible to cover worldwide news better than ever. “I see signs that America is wakening to the need to know more about the world,” he said. The Internet, digital photography, satellites and more help make the job easier for globe-trotting journalists. “My optimism for the future of journalism does outweigh my pessimism, but it’s only a few steps ahead,” he said.

Wayne Dillehay

Coyne sets the scene on narrative journalism
by Tara Witterholt

After years of waiting for our invite to lunch, Anchorage Press writer Amanda Coyne admitted she felt like “the dorky girl at the dance.” But on January 6, Alaska Press Women motioned her to the popular table and asked her about working for the alternative press.

Her list of credits is impressive: New York Times magazine, APRN, NPR, Bust Magazine, all buttressed by an MFA in creative nonfiction from the University of Iowa. Her first story, published by Harper’s, was written after she stopped working as a corporate spy.

“It takes a lot of nerve to be a freelancer,” she said. “I spent a year circling the phone before I made the call to an editor.” Her animated re-enactment, including bent-over walking and pacing, only punched home the feeling.

“The fantasy of writing is so different than the reality. I don’t know any dental hygienists who say ‘I want to be a hygienist’ then never do it. But I know a lot of people who say ‘I want to be a writer’ and then never write.”

Then she read an ad that she couldn’t resist: “Come see moose as big as your house! Come watch eagles snatch small dogs! Come to Alaska and write for us!” And since the end of 2001, Coyne has been a full-time writer for The Anchorage Press. She’s currently finishing her stint as the features editor.

The Press began 12 years ago with 12 pages and a circulation of about 8000. Today, they regularly print 56 pages weekly and have a readership of 20,000. Across the U.S., there are over 425 online alternative sources and countless other print publications. With these kind of numbers, and the variety available, the question is “what is alternative journalism?”

Coyne’s definition starts with what it isn’t. In other parts of the country, what passes for alternative writing is really snide commentary with a “we know better than you” attitude. But for her, it’s telling the truth like it is and having a point of view. She prefers to know her position first and write from that position. There’s also an assumption that alternative presses are very left wing, an idea that gets the Press in trouble sometimes for not being liberal enough. Sticking to the honest approach works for Coyne.

“My motto is ‘work from the bottom up,’” she added. This means if she’s writing about panhandling regulations, she doesn’t start with the Municipality or Assembly members. She goes to the people holding up cardboard signs on street corners asking for help.

This motto has lead her into sticky situations at times and might rankle the most hardened of us. Still, it’s meant she’s spent lots of time with people who don’t get a lot of coverage in the mainstream press.

“I’m so present, people think I’m weird,” Coyne admits. “I’ve been accused of being crazy.”

This accusation comes from her style of collecting information for her stories. She spends hours and major parts of her day just observing, listening and asking questions of her subjects. A piece on the Christian Left involved attending several church services over several days, ranging from an evangelical meeting in the Valley to a gay Christian service in Anchorage. She takes risks. While gathering background about the Sex Offender Registry, Coyne knocked on the doors of registered offenders and got their take on it. Stopping short at wearing disguises, she goes to the front line to get the story.

“I’ve even hung out with white supremacists and drug dealers,” she says casually.

Being that present only makes her style of narrative journalism more authentic, her supporters say. She is setting the scene and telling every story in the context of that scene. If that means practically living in a halfway house, then that’s what it takes. It’s the way of the Press to get their readers engaged in their surroundings in an authentic way.

“Alaskans are invested in their community and the Press can shed light on various parts of that community,” Coyne noted.

As for Amanda Coyne, she’s traveling for a few months, sort of a honeymoon/vacation in Southeast Asia with her future husband, current editor of the Anchorage Press. When she returns, she says she’ll probably always work at the Press.

“I get a lot of freedom there.” A freedom that comes from being present.

Amanda Coyne

Daily News editor addresses APW
by Elaine Rhode

“We’re now in the information business, not just the newspaper business,” the editor of the Anchorage Daily News told November’s gathering of Alaska Press Women. The winds of change are coming from online, and so far, the forecast is encouraging.

“The Internet expands our audience and gives us new tools,” Patrick Dougherty said. “Breaking news is possible again.” He gave the example of election night results streaming onto the Daily News” website from a reporter at Election Central downtown. Ironically, the online updates continued even as a localized power outage silenced the printing presses, canceling two of the three planned editions.

Expect to see more video, photo slide shows, and audio options on the website. In 2005 Dougherty plans to introduce a searchable database for all community calendar items now appearing in various sections of the paper.

Whether future non-subscribers will have to pay to access the Daily News website is a hot topic in the office, Dougherty admitted. Circulation distributed by mail has shrunk to nothing in lieu of reading the paper online. Obituaries are the most visited e-page. Payment may soon be demanded for these final write-ups.

Dougherty took the helm of the Daily News in 1998 after serving as its managing editor, city editor, and news editor.

He arrived in Alaska with a 1974 journalism degree from Baylor University. He co-owned the Alaska Advocate, a fondly remembered alternative weekly newspaper. He also worked for the Alaska Legislature and The Anchorage Times before joining the Daily News in 1980.

Dougherty edited the 10-part series on alcoholism and suicide in Bush villages, “A People in Peril,” which earned the Daily News the 1989 Pulitzer Prize Gold Medal for Public Service (its second medal).

Within a decade, however, the paper had lost its investigative fervor, he said. His goal as editor has been to return to that journalistic heritage.

Dougherty described the paper’s current strengths to include strong daily news reporting and photo design. He proudly pointed to the active feature section and especially lauded Heather Lende�s weekly column from Haines. The food section ranks tops nationally in papers with circulation under 150,000, he said, announcing a recent award.

His list of “things to do better” includes people profiles, military and teen coverage, headlines, and promotion of the paper’ content. He also plans to increase reporting of the Matanuska-Susitna Valley to serve the skyrocketing population that lives there but works in Anchorage.

Dougherty fielded fervent pleas from the audience to bring back 14-year columnist Mike Doogan and the Sunday magazine, We Alaskans.

“The door is open if Doogan chooses,” said Dougherty. “but no return of We Alaskans is being considered.”

Dougherty, who was the first editor of We Alaskans, argued that the promise to place the magazine’ stories in the daily pages is not hollow.”The people and money are still there,” he said. “But without 16 blank pages to be filled weekly, the urgency to hunt down similar content is gone.” He said that he found few Daily News employees who read We Alaskans.

On the other hand, the paper’s moose calendar is an obvious winner with a press run of 50,000 — and Dougherty defends it annually to perplexed officers at McClatchy Newspapers in Sacramento.

Patrick Dougherty

Leading by example: Anchorage business woman builds successful television station
by Pamela Eldridge

Carol Schatz says she selected the call letters of KYES for her locally owned television station because they sounded upbeat, but they could also represent Schatz’ personality. From her start as a volunteer disc jockey on KYUK radio in Bethel, to owning KYES UPN 5 television in Anchorage, Schatz meets challenges with a “yes” attitude. Schatz spoke at the Alaska Press Women’s October luncheon meeting about how she and husband Jeremy Lansman became owners of the only locally owned television station in Anchorage.

Barbara Brown presents Carol Schatz with an Alaska Press Women mug.

In the beginning, though, Schatz thought her first night at radio station KYUK in Bethel would be the end of her fledgling career. Around midnight, Schatz heard the only other person in the office leave for the night and realized she didn’t know what to do when her shift was over. Schatz ran outside to ask her departing co-worker for instructions when she heard the door lock behind her. Eventually, Schatz found a way inside. “I was sure this would be the end of my broadcasting career; that I’d never be allowed back into the building. But a few years later,” Schatz said, smiling, “I ended up being the general manager of the station.”

In 1983 Schatz moved to Washington, D.C. to be near family, and found work with the National Federation of Community Broadcasters. Schatz had met Jeremy Lansman by this time. Lansman, in Anchorage and who had radio experience in Alaska, learned the FCC had made five stations available for permitting, including television channel 5, formerly reserved for military use. Lansman asked Schatz if she wanted to apply for the station permit. “Sure,” she said, and without knowing what owning a commercial television station meant, she bought it.

Lansman moved from Anchorage to Washington, D.C. to work in consulting, and Schatz and Lansman eventually married. The couple began learning what they needed to start the station and Schatz researched how to purchase commercial television programs. “I had no experience with commercial television. I had never been in a commercial television station. I’d watched a lot of TV as a kid, though,” Schatz said. She laughed.

The FCC assigned call letters for the new station, but Schatz thought they were dull and uninspiring. Because the Anchorage economy in 1985 was in a downturn, Schatz wanted call letters that sounded positive. While still in D.C., Schatz and Lansman researched for better call letters. When they discovered KYES was available, they jumped at the chance to register it. “With everything so bad in Anchorage some upbeat call letters (were) like “YES!,” Schatz said. “So I got on the Metro, ran over to the FCC, and did whatever I had to do to claim KYES.”

Schatz and Lansman arrived in Anchorage ready to begin work. First on the list was an antenna site and they found one in Eagle River. Lansman took care of equipment acquisition, while Schatz purchased their first programming. “I looked for programs that I could get for barter or for very little cash because the economy here was so bad that there was very little hope for selling a lot of commercials.”

In 1992, the cable company gave them coverage, but KYES was unfavorably placed on channel 53 and later moved to channel 51. Schatz recalled one attempt to get the cable company to move the station to a better placement. “There was a big meeting in Boston. I had pizzas delivered to them where I had people take out a piece of each pizza so they could see that without including us there was a missing piece of the pie.” Her efforts worked, and now KYES UPN 5 is at channel 5 on the cable lineup.

Their big financial break came in 1995 with their first big risk; they made a major investment in programming with Buena Vista’s Home Improvement. She recalled thinking how much they had just paid for this program and wondered if they could make the payments. What Schatz didn’t know at the time was that by airing this popular program in prime time, the station ratings went up and national advertisers began calling her. They said something surprising; they didn’t even know channel 5 existed until she bought Home Improvement. Advertising revenues went up.

About this same time, UPN started offering programming. Schatz said they made “an agreement with UPN to run their network, in large part because they were going to have Star Trek Voyager. I wasn’t going to pass that up.”

Becoming an affiliate with UPN gave the station solid evening programming. Soon, however, Schatz faced a serious threat. Station consolidation into broadcast groups began at this time and independent stations found themselves cut out of some opportunities to purchase quality programming. “For a while I thought I couldn’t compete (with groups) so I just grabbed everything I could. I became very aggressive,” Schatz recalled. “The result is we have a lot of great syndicated programs; Everybody Loves Raymond, Friends, Frazier, Fear Factor. I got all of these because I thought, “I’m not going to let them beat me and cut me out of the market.”

“Advertisers are the lifeblood in commercial television,” said Schatz, and she keeps this in mind with every programming decision. Only once did an advertiser temporarily pull their ads, and none permanently. Some advertisers request their ads not be shown with certain programs. This has resulted in careful programming decisions and reduced risk taking.

The future of broadcast is wide open with digital television and radio on the horizon. Schatz explained they can probably take risks she has not felt comfortable with in the past because digital channels offer “several programming streams,” enabling them to maintain solid relationships with advertisers for traditional programming, while being able to try new things through the digital channels.

KYES UPN 5 has met the current FCC requirement to have a digital signal; they broadcast on channel 22, and have an Internet radio station using equipment Lansman set up in their garage and on the roof. Schatz said she gladly accepts the challenge of digital broadcasting. If her past successes of meeting challenges is any indication, her future has no boundaries.

Barbara Brown and Carol Schatz

Doogan happy here and now
by Elizabeth T. Hedgepeth

The foremost orator and political speechmaker of the late 19th century, Robert G. Ingersoll, is noted for having said, “The time to be happy is now. The place to be happy is here.” Somewhere in Mike Doogan’s past he must have read Ingersoll because he is a living spirit in the way to live happy, in the here and now.

Doogan was September’s speaker at Anchorage’s Alaska Press Women meeting. He gave his audience the gift of laughing and thinking and pondering the meaning of happiness as he continues his transition from newspaper columnist to the new career he is carving. That new career will surely include writing because Doogan isn’t Doogan if he isn’t stringing a bunch of words together. He already has two books to his credit and a third at the publisher’s. That doesn’t include a collection of his columns, which was published as a book, simply titled Doogan.

Mike Doogan is a third generation Alaskan and an Irishman. When you think through this rich combination, you can understand why his readers have a love/hate relationship with him. That he is no longer available three times a week to share our morning coffee is a personal trauma each of us must deal with. He certainly has and he’s no worse for wear.

He didn’t realize, he told his audience, how much stress he had been under until he resigned from the Anchorage Daily News. The resignation came after 14 years with the paper in a position, he admits, for which he was adequately compensated and pretty much left alone.

Doogan realized that he just wasn’t having as much fun as he used to. This realization came to him after another in a series of differing opinions with his editor about the column. And, he said, since they are both Irishmen, he felt they were really reasonable during the discussions. While the latest discussion was not in and of itself that important, it did cause him to pause in one of those rare moments in life. In that pause, reflection became a surprise mirror and what he saw was not what he wanted to see.

So, after 14 years, more than 2,000 columns and 1.3 million words, Mike Doogan is making his appearance wearing a Hawaiian shirt and, to quote the man, “To hell with ’em. One of things about being unemployed is that you can wear Hawaiian shirts whenever you want.” And so he did—and does.

So a happier, decidedly more relaxed Mike Doogan shared his recollections with us over lunch. If you have your own column at a newspaper, Doogan said, most journalists would feel they’ve died and gone to heaven. However, writing a column puts a high premium on dependability. It also exacts a high toll. He explained: if a reporter’s story doesn’t come together by deadline, that reporter simply tells his editor the facts and they get something else to fill that space and nobody’s the wiser. If you’re a columnist and you’re supposed to be in the paper three times a week, you can’t go to your editor and say it’s not happening today. You learn to find your column material anywhere, anytime. Even your personal life and your family are column fodder. You live your life in a fish bowl of column leads.

He misses writing the column when materials present themselves and beg to be written. Like Governor Frank Murkowski’s airplane. Doogan explains, �What you could do with the idea of flying Murkowski Airways! And then I saw in the paper recently that the state of Alaska’s been given $500,000 to support marriage. Now, what is it that you do with $500,000 to support marriage. I suppose if a couple was having a lot of arguments about finances you could given ’em the $500,000 and you’d probably make the problems in that marriage go away. What? You have an advertising campaign: Get married. It’s good for you. And the other thing I’ve noticed because I’ve been watching all this stuff on the Internet is George Bush. He’s running based on what he’ll do in the next four years. What about what he’s done in the last four years? He doesn’t want to talk about that.”

So, what’s Doogan doing now? Basically, he says, he’s not doing much of anything. “People were always telling me that it’s great to spend the summer in Alaska. And, you know what, they’re right, particularly when you have a summer like this one” I’m hoping there’s something to this global warming stuff.”

Other than enjoying his favorite state, he’s got a new book that he says is floating around in New York somewhere and he’s looking for a job. He’s also enjoying reading newspapers. He’s cultivated a different perspective on the news. He’s becoming one of those people who used to tell him how to do his job.

On a serious side, he tells people he misses three things about his job. He misses the people he worked with because it’s fun being in a room full of smart people who are engaged in the world and doing something. He misses the benefits and he misses the money he got paid.

And most of us miss him. To his credit, he kept this group alert, even after lunch, delivering another quality product and entertaining us with his knowledge, his charisma and his shoot-from-the-hip style.

Passionate Alaskan filmmaker speaks at APW luncheon
by Marilyn Blumer

Lights! Camera! Action! Alaska filmmaker Mary Katzke was the guest speaker for the Alaska Press Women luncheon, held June 3 at the Golden Lion Hotel. She spoke with enthusiasm and great reverence for her craft and the subjects in the films she creates. Katzke is a graduate of the University of Texas and founded Affinityfilms in Alaska in 1983. She left Alaska to obtain her master’s degree in filmmaking from New York University. After completing this degree, she returned to Alaska in 2001. Lucky for us, Katzke has chosen the Last Frontier to be her base camp where she films mostly documentaries.

Many of her films have appeared on PBS including her very first film, “No Word for Rape,” on the (once) hidden subject of rape in Alaska. To name a few others, she has also written and directed: “Beyond Flowers,” a personal story of facing and triumphing over breast cancer; “Sea of Oil,” about the Exxon-Valdez oil spill and the devastating effects on the community of Valdez; “Wings of Recovery,” about mental illness and “Crescendo,” which deals with domestic violence. Her films either explore previously taboo topics, or edify, educate, or encourage the viewer” or accomplish all of the above. No matter what her work may originally set out to accomplish, they all come from her heart. They are gifts on celluloid wrapped in images, music, light and thought.

Asked by a member in the audience if she ever has a difficult time finding actors for her films, she replied: “In New York that was never a problem.” When she was a student at NYU and creating many student films, people would line up around the block to appear in a film for free.

Katzke was eight years old when the filmmaking bug first bit her. She and her dad, an engineer, would film family gatherings on an 8 mm Bell & Howell. After documenting a 4-H project, she was hooked. The rest, as they say, is her story.